truly / madly / deeply
this – the plaza at midnight, wasp
quiet – my hands drowsy
with the pizzeria, dark as
a tiffany lamp. waiting –
my heart edges at lineage;
my family cleaves
neon. i see the shape of my own
face, accursed. my blood licks
its ghosts with a switch. me,
sleeping in grass by the sidewalks;
me browsing for curios, teeth
already in my possession.
my grandmother’s grandmother
next to me on the side street, kneeling
to pray, smiling at the house with
hair wrapped in frames. together
we know a secret; together
we whisper with no mind for
words. language sours in us like
cream –– there is no stopping
what’s to come.
Kailey Tedesco is the author of She Used to be on a Milk Carton (April Gloaming Publishing) and These Ghosts of Mine, Siamese (Dancing Girl Press). She is the editor-in-chief of Rag Queen Periodical and an associate editor for Luna Luna Magazine. Her manuscript Lizzie, Speak recently won White Stag Publishing’s full-length poetry contest and will be published in 2019. You can find her work in Phoebe Journal, Grimoire, American Chordata, and more.